Herteander's Quest

I was born in a small town called Cyrene, on the shores of a large lake. My mother had died during childbirth, and my father passed away two years later from an illness he caught while traveling. The only family I had left was my grandfather; but he had taken ill shortly after my father’s death and has grown steadily worse since then.

My grandfather was a wise man, kind to everyone who knew him and always ready to lend a hand to those in need. He told me many stories as I grew up, all of which now seem like nothing more than fairy tales.

He would tell me about the kingdom that he had once ruled, far away from our little village. A beautiful place where warm breezes carried the scent of ocean water and flowers into every corner of the land. Where children could play outside all day at their leisure, and where the people lived in harmony with nature around them. It all seemed so impossible to me that I often wondered if it was just some kind of dream he would have when his mind wandered at night. But whenever I asked him about it, he always answered with such certainty that it made me believe that it really did exist, somewhere out there in the world.

I remember one day as I sat by his bedside as he lay there silently staring up at the ceiling, breathing shallowly and occasionally coughing weakly to clear his throat. In his hands he held a small wooden box that I hadn’t seen before. After a few minutes of silence he looked down at me and said: “Herteander…”

“Yes grandfather?” I replied quietly.

His eyes closed for a few seconds as if searching for something deep within himself before turning back to me with an expression that seemed to hold both pride and sadness in equal measure as he continued: “This is what you seek…”

The words hung in the air for a moment before he handed over the box to me and took his last breath as I stared down at him in shock.

* * *

It was two days after my grandfather died that I first heard about the strange woman who had visited him shortly before his passing. Everyone thought she was nothing more than some kind of gypsy, but she had left suddenly after seeing my grandfather clutching this strange little box to his chest as if trying to protect something precious inside it from her prying eyes. Does she know something? Was she somehow involved with my grandfather’s death? Or perhaps…was she even responsible for it? Questions swirled around in my head as I packed up my belongings and set off on a journey in search of answers.